Bind & CrEATe

In certain circles, my grandmother went by “Aunt Doll.” I always longed to call her Doll instead of Gram, but it didn’t feel right (with her being my gram and all). Aunt Doll is quite the woman – and known for many things. Large plates of Christmas Cookies. Cards on every occasion (sometimes with a $5 spot inside). But most importantly, Doll is known for her cabbage rolls, a.k.a. “pigs in the blanket.”

Tonight I channeled my inner doll and sought out to make a slightly-healthier version of her cabbage rolls. We have mounds of swiss chard in the garden, and I just received a delivery of ground beef from my grandparents’ farm. The herb garden is being severely neglected. No better time than the present to make my first-ever-batch of pigs-in-the-blanket, this time with a more locally-grown twist.

When I was young, I had no taste whatsoever for cabbage rolls. I turned my nose up at cabbage. Then, for a while, tomato sauce wrecked my existence (and still does, on slight occasion). But with age has come wisdom, and I’m excited to share that I thoroughly enjoyed my first batch in the privacy of my very own backyard.

So no, Aunt Doll didn’t make these. And this isn’t even her recipe. But she deserves the credit/namesake. That woman always made these look like a breeze. Try them for yourself, when you have time. You won’t be disappointed.

{Full Recipe}

It’s no secret that food can transport you to another time.

Sitting around the table with family.
Eating that one amazing funnel cake at the county fair.
Baking with a grandmother during youth.

But what about food associations with not-so-great memories?

Because that’s my relationship with tofu. I’m no a hater. I’ve loved the stuff for years. Even though I’ve made some of the worst batches of tofu in the world, I still crave the good stuff.

But, here’s the sore spot. When I used to think, see or dream of tofu (in any form): a person popped into my brain. This was a person I don’t want to see. A former relationship that’s long dead in the water. It all kept going back to him.

I didn’t think I could make tofu as well as he did.
I didn’t think I had the same sort of patience as he did.
I knew I wasn’t him, and I knew I ate his tofu all the time.

The link to tofu in my brain was all wrapped up in that person, and I thought: This needs to stop. I needed to perform some serious image therapy on myself and stop linking food I loved with someone who made me feel such incredible pain. So the other night, I did just that. And the result was well worth it.

I made my own barbeque marinade.
I pressed my own tofu blocks.
I cut my own tofu the way I wanted.
I asked my own roommate to put this in the oven, so a meal would be ready upon arrival.

I prepared, crEATed and enjoyed this meal by myself in my own way. And it was the best tofu I’ve eaten in years.

Recipe: Change-of-Mind Marinade for Tofu